


Elden Blood

by Kiriyuko



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with no happy ending, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Bloodborne referenced, Body Horror, Childhood Memories, Dark, Dark Fantasy, Dark Magic, Dark Souls (Video Game) References, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dreams and Nightmares, Eldritch, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Fire, Fire and Blood, Forbidden Love, Forced Marriage, I Made lore for this fic, I love Lady Maria so fight me, Implied Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by Bloodborne, Inspired by Fanart, Lovecraftian Monster(s), M/M, Memory Loss, Miscarriage, Multi, Nightmare Fuel, Phobias, Psychological Horror, Soulsborne AU, Temporary Character Death, Witch Gabriel, hunter jack, smut???, spooks!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:34:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26240473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiriyuko/pseuds/Kiriyuko
Summary: It's for Petitecreme! Her art is amazing, go check her out on Tumblr, Patreon, Ko-fi, etc. One of her fanarts with Jack as a hunter made my soulsborne brain go haywire! (Also Lore bits in notes)Now for this fic, certain topics, events and horror will happen go and read for your own risk.Leave comments and Kudos!! (edit: attempt at a summary and tags been changed since writing this story (and lore).)Fear has always been part of their lives, every moment it has been laced. Yet for Jack, it's his driving force to find out the true source of the nightmare. Plagued by the nightmare, he walks to his final destination and find his lover he yet needs to know. But the destination may be more damning than the nightmare.
Relationships: Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Genji Shimada/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Lena "Tracer" Oxton/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [petitecreame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/petitecreame/gifts).



> The Way of the Blood
> 
> Unlike it's successor, the Way of the Blood was a ability of Undead Hunters used for their hunt. Many scholars state that the Way of the Blood is an art form for the Hunters. In order to gain favor to use the Way, the Hunters must visit their final resting place and be given the gift by the Old Ones. Only a rare few gained favor of the Old ones.

Jack ran to the pond, his free time came as he ran happily. His excitement came as he thought about the frogs hopping around in the pond. His train of thought was stopped as he found small footprints leading to the pond. Peeking through the bushes, the 5 year old slightly smiled as he saw another boy the same age as him. The other wore a black shirt, black pants and polished shoes, the hair was a nice mop of curly hair. Jack watched for a moment the other was sitting on the boulder, reading a large leather book. He couldn't tell what the title was, all he could see was faded gold. 

Jack came out of the bushes, the twigs broke and creaked frightening the other boy from reading. Quickly closing his book, he got up to run away from the other. "Wait, don't run away." He spoke, the other toddler stopped and looked at Jack. Still clutching to his book, he fidgeted.

"I'm Jack. What's your name?" He hesitated then answered, "I'm Gabriel." Jack smiled, he looked at the book in Gabriel's arms. "What are you reading?"

"A book about monsters. It's my favorite book."

"Oh."

"Do you have a favorite book?"

Jack shook his head, "I can't read yet. My brother is going to teach me how to read when he comes back. But I like chasing frogs."

"Frogs?"

"Yes." 

Gabriel tilt his head in interest, "Can you teach me how to catch frogs?" The blonde, now excited, nodded and took him to the edge. Teaching his new friend how to catch frogs at the pond, they giggled and laughed.

For the entire day, the 2 were catching frogs and sword fighting with sticks. The blonde held a frog in his hands, he spoke "This should be our secret place!"

"Yeah! Are you coming here tomorrow?" Jack nodded in reply. Before he could say anything else, their mothers' called out for them to come home. Letting the frog go, the 2 hugged each other and said their goodbyes before heading home. 

- _ **6 years later-**_

Jack sat on the boulder, have reached the age of 11, he was exhausted from the plaguing nightmares. Dark circles were noticeable by the naked eye, the lack of sleep is noticeable. The boy wished he could end it all but risk of falling into that hell scape. Wraithing next to him, Gabriel sat on the boulder not having to look at Jack to see the tiredness in his stance. Concern laced in his voice as he spoke, "Did you have the dream again?" He nodded, "Everyone keeps telling me that the Hunter's dream was supposed to be pretty. Glowing flowers and stuff like that, all I get is a dark room filled with water and bones." Gabriel wished he could do something to help his friend, yet he was powerless against the nightmares festering from Jack.

"They are going to take me away from my family and you."

"Why?"

"The Church said my dreams are not normal especially at age 11." Gabriel couldn't do anything, even with his status, hugging Jack tightly as he could. Knowing that his best friend is going to change forever.

- _ **The Dream**_ _ **-**_

_The mold was evident in the air. The ground wet from the thin layer of water. Water dripped from the ceiling, darkness enveloped the damp cave. Despite the layers of his hunter garbs, he felt the chill of the wind yet no wind blew inside the cave. The stench of rotting corpses and blood filled his nose, he is alone yet not alone. A presence of another being was there, he knew someone or something was with him. Heavy breathing can be felt behind him, the hairs behind his neck stood up from the breathing. It felt human, but no human could breathe and lingered like this._

_His skin burned, but no flames were lit. He felt a cool edge of a blade slit his neck yet nothing came out. Death came and death didn't come at all. A thin hand is pressed behind his back, he didn't dare to look behind him. He heard a voice, a woman's voice speak to him._

_"My dear hunter. The Hunt has barely begun."_

- _ **27 years later-**_

It's been many years of death, years of insanity. The room was lit by waning candles, walls crumbled down, sculptures of hooded figures hunched over holding broken lamps stained in black from the moisture from the many years. Stone floors that once guided holy men and figures now was littered with broken bodies and the dead. One body that had the proud blue and white now resembles the black dirt from the outside. The body is nothing more than a skeleton, broken arrows littered around it. The sword that was once a proud weapon of the church, broken and faded. 

A peculiar thing, blood from the urns and vials spilled and flowed on the floor like a river to the skeleton. It resembles no humanity in it, it flickered like the embers from a candle. The blood wrapped itself on the skeleton, rebuilding the layers of a human. 

Muscle and organs being rebuilt and repaired, skin formed to a pale shade, hair regrew to the paleness of the moon. A gasp of first breath, then a howl filled the room. _It burns, it burns, end it, kill me._

The man trembled, the burning gone from existence. His hunter garb, turned black as soot, lightened in embers of the Blood. Turning his head, the sword is now whole. Picking it up, the longsword is heavy in his grip. The 18 in. handle filled both his hands perfectly, the blade is wrapped in tattered linen and the tip corrupted by the Abyss of the Old Ones.

Placing it on his back, he left the ruined and tainted building. No memory of himself, just a name and his purpose. His purpose given to him yet seeing no other hunter raised from the dead except himself. Fixing his gloves, he continued his trek on a unknown path of the Hunter.

With only a name: Jack. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dreamscape
> 
> "A world where life and sleep meet, the final resting place of a Hunter. My caretaker shall care for me and guide me to my end. Guide me through the Dream and wake me for the fight. Let my death be the final death, and my predecessors meet me at the end."  
>  -A Vicar's poem

The starless sky took over the night, dimly lit lamps light the broken pathway. Fog covered the ground, thick forest surrounded the road. Jack walked on this lonely road, ignoring the squelching noises of inhuman beasts feasting. He stopped on his trek, the loud skittering could be heard from the forest. Clicking noises can be heard from behind like an insect preparing for it's next meal. Turning his head, he spotted 3 creatures behind him revealed by the lamps. Large heads that were similar to a spider, eyes black as they stared at the hunter, limbs long and humanoid, the smell overwhelmed the Hunter, their legs replaced with 6 spider legs, their backs overtaken by parasitical eggs webbed on them. Hair grown long and matted, no humanity can be seen in their appearance. 

Pulling out his sword, he held it in his hands. His stance prepared for a fight coming his way, no emotion on his face. But, he couldn't help but listen to the mumbles of the creatures before him. "I want it. Your blood, so human yet it is not. I want it, I need it. Give it to me." The 3 charge at him, with a primal need. Swinging his blade, he killed the 2 charging at him. Before he could find the 3rd one, the last creature stung him with its stinger on his back. Gasping in pain, he turn and swung the blade to kill the last one. Touching the sting, he hissed from the freshness of it. He can feel the poison course through his veins, taking over him. Dizziness struck him, the world around him tilted. The world faded and blurry, fighting to find his balance and consciousness he fell to the ground. Darkness took him in, the last thing he saw was a pair of heeled boots and a purple robe.

- ** _???-_**

Waking up, he saw the crisp green grass and a stone walkway. It was night yet the Moon shined to fool that it was complete daytime. Getting up from the ground, he saw the many tombstones and fresh graves cover the grassy yard. Iron wrought fencing surrounded the cemetery, guarding it from something.

Jack could feel the mist, the cool wind blew his Hunters coat and hat. Walking the path ahead of him, he looked around and there before him was a large Cathedral. Tall, stone archways were over the large iron doorway, piers blackened from the constant mist, the 2 spires standing tall and proud. Opening the iron doors, making him feel small and insignificant, he used all of his strength to open the doors. The hinges whined and creaked loudly, scrapping the floor of the cathedral. To his satisfaction, it was wide enough for him to walk through.

Inside, he took note of the many candles illuminating the spines of books on the shelves. Walking through the nave, he took in the smell of the aged paper and books from many years of collecting. Looking at the ground, he took in amazement of the polished marble. Seeing his reflection on the floor, he noticed the embers were out and his youthful features restored. Getting out of his trance, he continued walking through the nave. Passing by the pews, he carefully walked up to the sanctuary. The rose window shined through from the Moon, and there in the sanctuary was a large rows of books. A woman sat in the center, in a ornate cushioned chair with a long red coat with black cuffs and a black cape rested on the edge. A black tricorn hat rested on a bust of a man, getting closer he could see hair in a long braid wrapped once around the high bun. The candelabra had 3 waning candles, illuminating the face, the small ruff under her chin, the white long sleeved shirt and the gold embroidered, red vest. Before he could say anything, the mysterious woman spoke, "I know you are there Jack Morrison. I assume the Grand Archives are to your liking?"

"How did you-"

"You have the steps of a Hunter," she stated then continued, "I sense the Blood in you." She picked up a book and opened it to a blank page, picking up her fountain pen from the ink well and wrote in it. "It takes a hunter to know a hunter." This took Jack by surprise, "You're a hunter?" The Woman didn't turn her head, focused more on the page, "I am. You are in the Dreamscape." The other hunter looked around the Archives, "Is this my final resting place?"

"Yes and no."

"What does that mean?"

The writing stopped in its tracks, putting the fountain pen back in its ink well she got up and faced him. Jack took a clear look at the Woman. She has a sharp jawline, almond shaped eyes, white hair fins much like a dragon. The black leather breeches can be seen, thin leg armor with floral pattern and silver spurs on the back of her boots. The more he examined, the more outdated her hunter garb is, _Seems too nice to be a hunter garb._

The Woman walked to the ladder and went up, searching for a book to her liking. She spoke, "The Dreamscape, to many religious figures, is the final resting place. Yet in my opinion it is the final fight." Jack frowned, curious overtook him, "What do you mean final fight?"

"It's just a theory really."

"That's vague."

"Is it?"

He frowned once more, "So how did I get in?"

"You died." Getting a book from the shelf, she got down the ladder. "If I were you, I would stop thinking about it so much."

Jack watched her sit back in her chair, placing the book on the simple desk. The question came out before he stopped himself, "How come I am not on fire?"

"Are you talking about the Embers?"

"Yeah."

"You're in the Dreamscape. The Blood is from the Old Ones."

"Why do I have it?"

"It was made to kill the Old Ones, the true Hunters purpose."

Before he could say anything else, the world disappeared before his eyes.

- ** _Norwick-_**

Jack woke up, feeling the chill from lack of shirt, rubbing his face he felt the 2 scars on his face. Looking around, he saw the many herbs decorated the room along with an arrange of lamps. Sitting on the edge of the bed, the bed groaned under his weight. Wincing at the sharp pain from his backside, he touched the bandages around his waist. Getting off the bed, he looked at the windows to the outside. Metal bars blocked the glass window, the fog settling in outside. All ideas of leaving were out of the question. Heading to the door, he opened it and walked out of the room to the dining room. A woman looked at him as she set empty bowls down. The woman has tanned skin yet lighter from its original shade, the lack of sunlight showed.

"Oh, never thought you would wake up. Surprised really, those creatures have a nasty sting." He didn't say anything, just blinked at her. "I'm Sombra. And you are?"

"...Jack."

"Well Jack, are you part of the former Dreaming Church? I saw from your Hunter garb."

"Dunno."

She sighed, frustrated from the short answers, "Well, no other person could heal that way. The Blood does that."

He looked at her curiously, "The Blood?" Sombra nodded. "Yeah, of course the Blood does things to you. I've seen what it does." Motioning him to sit down on the table, she served the cooked soup into the bowls. He sat down, no memory came to him about the Blood. "What does it do? The Blood I mean."

Sombra looked at him as if he was crazy, then shrugged, "It changes you. Your mind changes, you don't sound nor look human any more."

Jack nodded, wondering if that would happen to him. Picking up his spoon, he started eating the soup. The 2 ate in silence, the clinking of silverware and the porcelain bowls. The grandfather clock chimed at midnight, filling the empty silence. Not another word was spoken, until Jack looked out the window seeing the spires beyond the forest.

"That's the Cathedral of the Deep. Used to be called the Illusionist Basilica."

"What happened?" He asked, turning his head to Sombra. "The Pontiff happened. Took in the Witch King, made him take him to the Dreamscape to get more Blood. Whole place is corrupt by the Abyss. Rumor is that the Pontiff and the Vicar poisoned the Old Ones. I tried to confirm it, but by the Dream they hide their tracks well."

"Who's the Witch King?"

"Seriously? He used to be known as Gabriel the Honorable, now he's known as Gabriel of the Nightmare."

_Why does the name Gabriel sound familiar?_

The room is spacious, lighted by the Moonlight. Yet the room suffocated him. Gabriel laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling numb and empty. A shell of his former self, how he wished he was. The Witch laid there, breathing and unmoving. Bare in the sheets, nothing around him felt real but it is. He wished he was in his arm again, laughing, smiling, whisper in each others ears. Instead, he felt used, dirty, tainted. 

Hearing the other man beside him sleeping, he got up. Gabriel held a ring, shined by the moon just like its owner yet heavy in his hand with the burdens that followed.

As much as he wanted to get rid of it, he couldn't for it was his curse to love a dead man. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is picking up slowly but surely. A lot of exposition I know. (BTW did you catch the reference?)
> 
> If you are in a situation where you feel as if you can't escape, you are not alone. Ask someone you deeply care about for help, do not get in a relationship where you cannot escape from.


	3. Noble Widowmaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noble Widowmaker
> 
> A woman of noble status and a affluent hunter, she was one of the main supporters of the Dreaming Church. The First Vicar used her for experimentations to make the perfect Hunter using the Blood, turning her skin blue and no human emotions along the way. Despite the outwardly appearance, she still kept her status as a socialite throughout the city and threw social gatherings in favor of the Church. She was married and had multiple lovers, including a female hunter. Sadly it came to an end when the Blood started to take over her making.
> 
> (WARNING: BODY HORROR AND CERTAIN PHOBIAS, VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED AND READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

Putting on his garbs, buckling up his belts and vest. He grabbed his longsword and placed it on his back to prepare his leave. Sombra walked in the room, holding a small pouch to him. "These are blood vials, stole them from the Church when I was still a member. Only available to the hunters of the Church."

Jack eyed them for a moment or 2, then took them. Opening the pouch, he took note of the faint orange glow of the vial. Not wanting to ask anymore questions, he closed the pouch in hand and placed it on his belt. Looking outside the window, he saw the sunrise. The clock chimed, signifying his early departure. The other human spoke, "Near here is a village with a manor, used to belong to an old friend of mine. Her girlfriend, Lena, can tell you more."

"What's in the manor?"

"Hopefully my friend. I haven't been there for a long time. So her being there is a rare chance."

He nodded, walking to the front door to the outside he said his goodbyes. Unaware of what awaits him on the path.

- _ **Aseweican-**_

Walking to the village, he saw people crawling and hiding. Mumblings of prayers for the sweet release of death. The roads were muddy, buildings and houses rotted from the constant rain. Lamp posts broken on the streets, glass littered around them. Continuing his walk, he ignored the skittering of creatures crawling to their homes.

Ahead of him on his right, he found a brightly lit lamp to a unruined home. Going up to it, he spotted a woman coming out of the stained house. He couldn't help but have a sense of familiarity to the woman.

Before Jack could ask her, the woman turned and smiled. "Jack! I missed you!" She hugged him tightly. Jack was in shock, but a single name came into mind,"Lena?"

"Why did you say it that way?" He didn't answer her question. "Oh..." Sitting on the bench outside of her home, he examined her more closely. Noting that she had the same hunter garbs as him except in blue and 2 rapiers in her belt and a pistol. "Can you tell me," Jack started, "who you were?" She answered with a soft tone, "I was your student, sort of like your daughter but not. I came here after your death." She continued, "But this place holds up to its name: abandoned. I tried fixing it, I really did but I couldn't kill someone I once cared about..." She gestured towards the manor, broken gates and fences surrounded the place, the ceiling caved in from one half of the manor, the only light source was from the inside.

Something gravitated him to the manor, a memory sprung in his mind. The manor stood tall and proud, a woman wore gowns that the royals wished they had, long hair like silk turned heads from the courts. Yet no name came to him, but he knew her blood was corrupted. For the Blood was more intoxicating than alcohol.

Opening the doors to the manor, he was met with the sound of water dripping from the hole of the ceiling inside the Broken Manor. Furniture turned and flipped, aged books littered the floor, the floorboards whined with each step Jack took. Heading to the bookshelf, only one book remained. Reaching for the book, he pulled it only to reveal a secret lever and a click of a lock. The door opened slightly, pulling it open he went inside. Revealed to him is a spiral staircase leading downstairs to a separate room. Stepping on the first step, his heel of his boot met with metal. The door behind him closed, locking him from the outside. Making it known he cannot leave without the key.

Continuing his descent, he heard the muffled sounds of moaning and a smell. The smell of gunpowder, residue of magic and copious amount of blood. Meeting to the end, he went through a stone archway entrance; broken shelves, chairs scattered about, tattered robes, garbs, broken swords, guns and piles of bones. A thin, frail hand grabbed his ankle, looking down to the source of the hand. A corpse drained of blood, wearing the robes of the Dreaming Church. The corpse gasped and inhaled the scent of the Blood from Jack then spoke, "She fooled us...please...end it..."

The moment the corpse finished, Jack looked ahead and there an unsightly beast revealed itself. The lower half of its body were a black spider, with 8 legs coming out of the hole on the ground, the spine is elongated and had black fur on its spine leaving it to be the only covering. Ribs showing yet no organs were in its cage, arms long and gangly had skin black as tar, the face no longer showed its human appearance now had jaws of a tarantula and many red eyes. Its hair still in its high ponytail, but it lost its shine and now matted. It chittered as it kept its eyes on Jack, cloth flowing on its abdomen the only thing that was human about it.

Jack pulled out his sword, holding it in both hands. The Beast waited, taunting him as he stood there. Jack charged only to be swatted to the wall with the back of its hand. His back hit the wall, unfazed by the impact. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, he picked up his sword and ran. Sliding underneath the Beast, he managed to cut off 3 legs before the Beast howled and grabbed him. Smashing him to the ground repeatedly. Before the hunter's eyes, the Beast conjured up a bow and arrow ready. All of its eyes at Jack, the Beast gained back a bit of its humanity and spoke in a disoriented voice, "A thousand apologies Jack Morrison." The tip of the arrow gleaned with poison, before Jack could move away the arrow was released and hit Jack in his abdomen. The Hunter fell to his knees, blood coming out of his mouth.

Foolishly, he pulled the arrow out. Now falling to his hands, his sword still in his hand. Weakened by the poison, he accepted the oncoming death. Before him, the pool of Blood flowed on the floor and to his sword. Signifying Widowmaker that the deed has been done. But to her surprise, poison came out of his body. The blade now increased to a much larger size, 72 in. long and 9 in. wide. Fire was lit on the blade without anything to start it, embers donned his garbs from the Blood. Getting up from the ground, he held his greatsword high. Charging towards Widowmaker, he slid underneath and cut off the rest of her legs then sliced her abdomen. She screeched in pain but the room fell silent after Jack did the final blow.

Her ghost came, in her true human form as she once was. Tears fell down her face out of pure joy of the end. Disappearing before him, he relaxed while taking a vial. Taking only a step, he felt something underneath his foot. Picking up the item, it was a handkerchief wrapped around a key to his exit. Going up the spiral staircase to the outside world.

Heading towards Lena, he gave her the handkerchief and key. "So you finally did it...I'm glad..." she said sadly, "She's finally free from her suffering...something I couldn't do."

Hugging her mentor tightly, she started to sob.

"Thank you so much."

He couldn't help but hug his former student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeaaaaaah, I need to keep my soulsborne brain out of fandoms from now on lol. Poor Widowmaker, she did not deserve it.
> 
> Leave comments and kudos!! Hoped you enjoyed my chapter!   
> BTW Thanks for my best friend for the help!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Witch's Adage
> 
> We are given the magic, trained by magic, built by magic, slain by the Blood. Fear the Blood, always.
> 
> "Gabriel, a Hunter will slay you in your sleep yet you frolic with one. Have you forgotten our adage my prince?"

**_-???-_ **

The Witch woke up in the dewy grass, dread came over him as he knew what his purpose is when the Tyrant lays with him and sleep overcomes him. Yet he was alone, and fully clothed under the pale blue moon. Odd, this isn't the Dreamscape from his previous travels. Gabriel sat up, frowning while turning his head to look at the dirt path among the gentle grass hills. Standing to his feet, he walked along the road hoping to meet his final rest away from a dead world.

As he met the end, he came across a small, stone cottage. In front were rows of sunken tombstones and a new tombstone among the others; behind the rows in front of the entrance, is a woman tending to a elaborate headstone. Dusting off the leaves with her fingerless, gloved hands she wore the white cleric robes. Dirt and holes littered the bottom of her wool gown, the long wimple decorated with silver adorned her head. Looking at the bottom half, Gabriel took note of the tentacles that should be feet. "I know you are there Gabriel Reyes." She turned her head, noting of the youthful features on her face and the black, watered tears from her eyes as though she never stopped crying. He spoke before he could stop himself, "You're an Old One."

"I am born from an Old One, so was my sister and brother. I never transcended to become a true Old One according to my dear sister." She moved away from the headstone, "But I do miss my family." Motioning him to follow her, Gabriel complied. "Why not ascend to be with them?"

"I...I blame myself for things in the past..."

"What do you mean?"

"I taught the humans how to do magic and I heal those who needed healing."

She sat down on a stone bench, patting a spot next to her for Gabriel. He sat next to as she continued.

"The Old Ones did have the best intentions...Well...I did anyways.."

Peaking his interest, she willingly gave in to his interest. "I wanted humans to have knowledge that the Old ones used to have, so they can understand us better. I taught them magic for that purpose."

For a moment, he didn't say anything until, "You're Lady Henrietta of the Moon." She nodded, "My human father was a hunter...my other father was called the Spirit of the Realm." He looked at her, ignoring that last part. "Why did you leave?" Surprise is evident on her face, then sadness, "Don't you remember your adage? Why you left your husband because of fear?"

He frowned, "I only remember having a husband, but I don't remember his name, face, what he is like...just that he's dead..." Sadly, she took his hand gently and pulled him behind the cottage to a lonely grave with a wooden memorial stuck to the ground. No time spared to gather his thoughts, gesturing him to the grave he went up to it. Reading the owner's name on the wooden plank, mold grew from the moisture of the air. 

_Jack Morrison_

A flood of memories came, emotions were felt in the moment he read that name. Fear, anger, resentment, happiness, sadness then regret and blame settled in his heart. Falling to his knees, fighting back tears he spoke. "All my life...people close to me, told me that he was going to kill me...that it was in their nature...I lied to him that I didn't care...but I did...I thought he was going to betray me... So to be feared by others I did things that no one has ever done...For the longest time, I yelled at him that he was just as bad as the creatures he killed..." He took a shuddering breath, no longer fighting back the tears he desperately fought back to hold. His voice cracked as he spoke, "Out of spite...I-I sent him to his own death...to those forsaken Ruins..." Breaking down to a quiet sob, he grabbed a handful of dirt from the fresh grave. "Only to find out through a dream that he would never betray me...By the dream I killed him..." Mumblings of I'm sorry, come back and I love you only came out of his mouth. Wishing he could take it all back.

The other watched, leaving the broken witch at his beloved's grave. She couldn't help but feel the broken witch's soul; anguish and blame filled his heart. The adage plagued him, for it hated the adage made by the Pontiff and the Vicar. Anger nor fear should be from a dreadful thing. Certainly not be the cause of a broken marriage of a witch and a hunter.

Oh, how she yearned to help the Weeping Witch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short and super late I know. It's not violent for once *le gasp* just pure angst. Hope you enjoyed it and hopefully it's worth the wait!
> 
> PS. I hope I didn't romanticize anything, I really did struggle on this chapter. Leave some criticism so I can fix it better if I did romanticize depression (or anything of the sorts).
> 
> Terms used in this chapter:  
> Wimple- a 15th century headdress used by nuns.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Healer's Poem
> 
> "Our gifts to heal those who can't. We must fight against the Plague. Once unholy must be pure to give a blessing and miracle. To heal must be our priority, to fight back the Plague of the Blood."  
>  -???

_**-Dathan District-** _

The moment Jack walked into the small district, he knew something was amiss. Once a beautiful region filled with decorated women, men, figures and fine fabrics, now felt that was only a passing dream. No rays of sun shone as it once was. No stars shined or appeared, cobblestone streets and pathways broken. Cleric robes burned over haystacks, poles and burned down tenants. They burned under the empty, starless sky, lamp posts were still lit attracting a small fog around them. 

Humans barred themselves inside, nothing was lit to signify they were inside the safety of their home. Not daring to step outside, in fear of what lies outside besides the Lonely Hunter that stands in the bare street. The ones who did step outside met an unfortunate end, and they litter the pathways of streets. Dogs used to be man's best friend feed on the corpses, turning to starving beasts hungering for their meal. The Beasts were starved, eyes milky white, fur thin and brittle, teeth bared and foaming from their mouths. A small pack can be seen not far from Jack, feasting happily on a family that braved going outside their home. Pulling out his blade, he ended them. Not giving them a chance to fight back. Looking up from his small victory, he stared at the large black gates wrapped in vines and broken statues. He put his blade away, and opened them to the other side of the gates.

Beyond the gates, were humans. Humans gone mad and drunk with the air that surrounds them. The former humans were on all fours, barring their teeth like animals and pupils blown from drunkenness of the air. Turning their heads to Jack, they can smell the dwindling humanity in him. Pulling out his sword once more, he slayed them all with no hesitation and no remorse. 

The blood from the beasts was intoxicating. Having an undesirable need to have it all and taste it. Not knowing what stopped him, perhaps it was the district that unsettled him. Or the illusion of his need to take it and drink it. It burns in him, his soul wanting it for the sake of satisfaction. 

Suppressing his need, he continued until he reached a thick forest ahead of him. The only thing that revealed to him was a stone street leading deeper into the forest, walking on the street he head to his next destination. Small garden gates met him, the fog covered the ground as dead flowers and plants wilted before it. No sense of reality can be connected to the illusion, or was reality cease to exist altogether. The fog grows thicker on the ground around him, he urged himself to go on forward. 

Before long, he walked to where a door should be. Looking around, he saw the broken foundation of crumbling walls. The only thing that stayed was the marble flooring but even that was disappearing beyond him. He knew this was a school of something great, a school for healing. Stained papers covered the floor, some with burned marks or water stains of exposure to the outside. Mold can be seen on the cracks. Surrounding the narrow marble path, was burned skeletons with their student robes on. No chance of escape of a inevitable death, they littered the floor.

He could see broken, metal rods, burnt wood, books that once held knowledge now ripped apart from the seams. Ahead of him, was a figure hunched over as the cage encased it's head. No face can be seen or recognized. Walking towards it, he felt the line between line and reality become thin. 

He could feel his soul dreary and compressed. His mind nearly shattered, eyes burning of tears, skin burning as if he just woke. Fighting against it, he continued towards it. Walking on the broken marble path towards the charred skeleton. The scholarly robes tattered, pants torn and burned, bare feet, his cape was thin and ripped. The silver chain that once decorated his robe, lay broken beside his feet.

Jack was close to it. Holding out his hand to touch the cage, the reality of the world shattered and faltered. He paid no mind to it as he got closer. Grazing his hand against it, he felt consumed by the nightmare. Unable to fight it, he fell to the floor. Sleeping a dead sleep, with only the nightmare to accompany him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I have returned to quench your need for Soulsborne content (I hope so, you guys are my support :))  
> The wait is over! Chapter 5 has come! Just in time for spooky month!  
> And some of it was taken from Bloodborne. As well as a very short chapter.
> 
> Also! I will bet all of my snack money ($5 in quarters (I go to the vending machines a lot)) to see who can guess the next boss fight.   
> If you get it right, RIP my snack money :(  
> If not, hehehehehe.  
> But in all seriousness, I really hoped you enjoyed the chapter! It means a lot that you read it for entertainment (or late night reading, must be reading this at 3 am), next chapter will come soon. IDK when, brain and I do not get along well.  
> P.S chain is not modern, it's from the Tudor Dynasty (1500s)


	6. Lucio, Musician of the Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucio, Musician of the Nightmare
> 
> A teacher of the clerics of the Church, Lucio believed that he could heal through music. After many healings, people far and wide come to the Church for the healing music. Realizing that he could fight back the Nightmare by using the Dream, he used his insight to calm the Dream in the living world. The Pontiff saw this and took it to his advantage to traverse into the Dream, but alas Lucio was met a welcoming end from the First Born.

_**-???-** _

The sound of growling has long been gone when Jack regained his senses. The silence around him suffocated him, all he could here was someone breathing heavily from a different room. The air around him was clean but tainted, it did not feel real. Jack sat up from the ground, hearing the papers crinkling as he moved. Looking around, he picked up one piece of paper only to find different varieties of notes. 

' _Music sheets'._ he thought to himself.

Getting to his feet, he dropped the piece of paper to the ground. He examined the room he was in, cracks on the wall, drywall pieces on the ground, tiles ripped from the floors, the beams holding up the place can be seen. Torches were lit to illuminate the grand hallways and books that fell on the ground. Large rose windows revealed the moonlight of the other world Jack was in. Broken music stands littered the ground, some melted that were hardly recognized as music stands. He knew what building he was in, but he did not know how the School was rebuilt to it's foundations. Gathering himself up, he can still feel his soul repressed and his humanity gone. Continuing to follow the heavy breathing of the suffocated silence, he came across the entrance where papers were strewn about, the torches lit blue but they feel cold.

A man can be seen in the middle of the room, his back arched, his head bowed like a man in prayer. The man's feet dragged on the floor, papers scraped underneath the foot. Jack just stared, unable to move. Mumbling was loud enough for Jack to hear.

"The Dream and the Nightmare are one and the same. The Blood is neither a Plague nor Blessing."

Turning his head to face the other man at the doorway, he picked up his head straight with his back. His robes moved but no breeze came into the Hall of Music. Opening his arms wide, waiting for an embrace. 

"The Blood of the Old Ones is no gift. But the Dream and the Nightmare are. It gives us insight of what they are. You can't stop it now, it festers in our world like a rat."

The man sauntered away, rambling on about the Nightmare he lives in. Grateful that he has the insight to see what it is, how his students were ignorant of the Nightmare and the Dream. Jack couldn't believe this was the same man that healed many others. Readying his longsword, he chased after Lucio-or the one that once was Lucio- to end his misery from his ramblings. Lucio waited for him at the end of the staircase, not moving just stood there with his ramblings in tow. Soon as Jack caught up to him, he ran off with Jack in his tail. Frustrated, he wanted to end it here and there. But he realized what all of this was to Lucio as he chased him around the hallways. This was all a game to him, the hunter chasing his prey, Jack is the hunter in this game while Lucio is the mere prey Jack sought to find and kill.

Reaching to the edge of a classroom, Jack crouched waiting for Lucio to move but the other man didn't. He waited, silently, before he pulled out a small lyre. Jack jumped off to attack him but the prey ran off before Jack could land a hit. Following him once more, he cornered him in the open balcony of the School. The younger man held his lyre and played 3 notes, E, D, A, before his eyes tentacles came out and pushed Jack back. The hunter fell over before going to the side and tried to land a hit on him before the tentacles came out after the 3 notes played once more. Lucio quickly ran off while distracting Jack with the animated skeleton of the students.

Jack fought them off, slashing their strings before running to chase off Lucio. Unable to hear his heavy breathing, a voice came before him mocking him, "Oh look! A hunter of the Dream has come, lives of a hunter is merely entertainment of the Old Ones." Searching for the voice, he ran through hallways, ignoring the skeletons when his goal is clear in his mind. 

"Grant us knowledge O' First Born. Open the Abyss to find the Brother of the depths. Heal us my Ladyship."

' _This can't be him.'_

Jack chased him down, failing to meet his blade with him. Anger surged through him, rage from this game of the Healer mocked his every being. Meeting him at the same edge, he waited like a snake preparing for its meal. Lucio stood there, holding onto his lyre like a lifeline. Jumping down, his sword missed the Healer by a hair but no blood was drawn. The other man ran off again, before the 2 met at the balcony, the man plucked the strings from his lyre. The same notes from before, and the creatures tentacles came out to push back Jack. The hunter quickly dodged from the attack, swinging his blade the edge met with Lucio. Once again, the healer met his end while screaming in desperation.

"Now I'll never wake up! I will never remember this Nightmare!"

Jack panted but his soul felt free from the place. He fell to his knees, the urge to fall asleep in this place was heavy. Dropping his sword, he fell face down and closed his eyes. Unknowing of who could be watching him, but the presence was gone as he woke up to the Living world.

_**-Dathan-** _

Jack quickly woke and got up on his feet. His mind rebuilding, his soul freeing from the cage of the Nightmare. But he couldn't stop thinking about the Healer, how could such a wonderful man turn to a desperate teacher seeking knowledge. Checking on his longsword, he sighed heavily. The silence was now comforting, stars were revealed in the night sky but the moon bleeds for a reason he has yet to discover.

Jack shook his head, and left the lying foundations of the school. His thoughts, although clear, were ignored and his humanity slowly discarded itself away. Thinking about it, he stopped by a small cave before hearing a small voice from it that called to him.

"Jack? Is that you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you didn't see that one coming did you?  
> You've been bamboozled.  
> Also a lot of this has been taken from the Bloodborne boss fight Micolash, Host of the Nightmare and it is shorter than my other fight Noble Widowmaker. Feel free to correct me on the Lyre :).   
> Cliffhanger!  
> Happy Halloween!

**Author's Note:**

> Hoped you enjoyed it! Slow I know, but it picks up.  
> Leave kudos and comments!!  
> (It gets better I promise)  
> Go check out Petitecreame!!


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